


I Know Where I Want to Be (By Your Side)

by walking_travesty



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Awkward Harry, Bottom Louis, Fluff, Football | Soccer, Frottage, Jock Liam, Jock Louis, M/M, Perrie Edwards - Freeform, Pining, Slow Build, Soccer star!Louis, Spring Break, Teenagers, Top Harry, Underage Smoking, Unrequited Crush, Zayn smokes a lot in this, art hoe!Harry, larry - Freeform, lots of fluff, lourry, soccer star!Liam, sorry - Freeform, stupid boys with stupid feelings, ziall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 07:38:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7305592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walking_travesty/pseuds/walking_travesty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“You’re gorgeous,” Harry says before he can stop himself. His eyes grow wide in horror when he realizes what he just had just done. Louis is just as surprised as Harry is, his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows raised. He looks away from Harry, looking down at his lap. He starts to shake his leg, and Harry is waiting for the moment when Louis calls him a freak and tells him to get out of his car, but that moment never comes.</i> </p><p><i>Louis looks back up at him, his eyelashes fanning so beautifully against the apple’s of his cheeks that Harry feels close to tears.</i> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Thank you,” Louis whispers, his eyes full of tenderness. He looks at Harry’s lips, eyes drifting to them and then back up in an instant. Harry can feel his mouth go dry, his heart beating against his chest.</i></p><p>- <br/>A story in which Louis and Harry are neighbors and chaos ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Know Where I Want to Be (By Your Side)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fookinglousers](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fookinglousers/gifts).



> To say the least, it has been a journey writing this story, but none the less I have loved every moment of it. 
> 
> I want to thank my beta [Marnie](http://www.ziall2k16.tumblr.com) for being such a great beta for me. They helped me **A LOT** while writing this fict and I just want to thank you for putting up with me for several months! I also want to thank my friend [Robin](http://www.cat-aclyxm.tumblr.com) for being an awesome friend and helping me out when my beta couldn't be there! 
> 
> I want to thank Dani for being a great admin and being super understanding when I needed a bit more time to write this fict (this is a few weeks late and I am very sorry about that). 
> 
> To the person I wrote this for, you had some pretty good prompts to choose from and it was SO hard picking just one. I hope you enjoy this story? I'm sorry it's a little late. 
> 
> Any mistakes still left are my own and I will try my best to go back through this and fix them when I can. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

Zayn stubs out the remnants of his cigarette, combat boots scuffing against the concrete. He leans back against the brick wall, leg bouncing anxiously. 

“Dude, we need to get out of here, this isn’t exactly a street art friendly neighborhood,” He says in a hushed tone. He rolls his eyes when Harry doesn’t make any move to leave. Harry leans down, dipping the tip of his paintbrush in a can of bright blue paint and placing a loose strand of hair behind his ear with his free hand. He wipes a hand across the sweat-soaked skin on his forehead as he paints a broad stroke onto the brick building. 

“I’m almost finished,” Harry replies offhandedly, standing back to see his mural in whole. He tilts his head, eyes critical as he analyses his own work. 

“Does this look crooked to you?” He asks; not really directing it towards Zayn. “I think I might’ve fucked up the proportions-” 

“It looks sick, Haz,” Zayn comments, clapping a hand on Harry’s shoulder. He blushes, ducking his head at the compliment. Zayn has been complimenting his work for years and yet, Harry still can’t learn to accept them. Zayn tilts his head the same direction Harry did, “Although, you should add a little more white there,” He says, pointing to spot in the center, “Brighten up that shadow a bit.” Harry simply nods, taking the brush from behind his ear and dipping it in white paint. 

Once he fixes the spot, he backs up and smiles, “I would be lost without you, Zayn.” He says, looking over to him. Zayn winks at him playfully, looking down as he takes another cigarette out of his pack. 

The mural wasn’t anything special, it was a freehand experiment that Harry decided to try out; he’s always wanted to work with pop art and he figured this would be the perfect place to start. It was a comic-styled hand holding a gun, but instead of shooting bullets, there were rose petals; above it all, it simply said, Stop Wars, Make Peace painted in the center of a comic style speech bubble. He takes a few pictures of it with his phone before beaming at his creation once again. Zayn slides into the spot next to him, cigarette hanging between his lips. 

“I didn’t know you were into comic style,” Zayn mumbles next to him, smoke surrounding them once he exhales around his cigarette. Harry shrugs, giving him a lopsided smile. 

“Wanted to try something different,” He comments softly, placing his hands on his hips.  
Zayn wraps an arm around his broad shoulders, pulling Harry into his side. 

“Feel like grabbing dinner?” Zayn suggests, already leaning down to put the lids back onto the cans of paint. Harry hums in agreement, leaning down to zip up his bag of paintbrushes. 

“Let’s drop this off at my house and then go out? I feel like sushi tonight,” Harry comments, walking ahead of Zayn as they leave the alleyway. Zayn snorts, his smile evident in his voice. 

“Yeah, let’s just get out of here before we get caught,” Zayn says, pulling at the hair tie holding Harry’s hair up in a bun. Harry whirls around, curly brown lock drooping over his face. He flips it out of his face before he flips his friend off playfully. 

>>

When they finally get to Harry’s house, Harry almost stops in his tracks once he gets to his front door. He didn’t notice him at first, but before he could get his keys out, he looks over at his neighbor’s yard and notices that Louis Tomlinson is out on his front porch. 

He doesn’t seem to notice Harry’s presence there. His feet were tucked under him while he sits in the rocking chair next to his front door; headphones in while he reads a book. He looked comfortable and cozy but it made Harry’s heart nearly rip out of his chest. 

He was gorgeous; effortlessly desirable. It drove Harry absolutely crazy. 

“Hey asshole, you mind opening the door? These paint cans are heavy as fuck,” Zayn mumbles behind him. Harry is snapped back into reality, dropping his bag of brushes in the process. This seems to finally get Louis’ attention, blue eyes focused on the two of them. He seems confused for a few seconds, his slight frown turning into a bright smile. Harry didn’t know what to do in that moment. 

Zayn nods his head in a greeting, kicking Harry in the ankle to get his attention. Harry can feel his cheeks turning pink as he struggles to put his key into the lock. It takes him three tries, every time his eyes can’t help but wonder back over to his neighbor’s yard. Louis isn’t looking at them anymore, but Harry notices the slight upward curve of his lips. 

When Harry finally gets the door open, he’s pushed aside as Zayn shoves his way through. He sets the cans down by the door and sits down on the stairs. Harry closes the door behind them, back pressed against it as he slides down to the ground. Zayn leans back on the stairs, legs spread out and eyebrow raised; sometimes Harry wished he possessed the effortless swagger that Zayn had. Everything he did, said, and presented always had an unattainable coolness to it. 

“Y’alright?” Zayn asks, snorting to himself. He tilts his head to the side, giving him a knowing smirk. Harry puts his hands over his face, groaning in embarrassment.

“Don’t say anything,” Harry groans behind his hands, thudding his head against the door. Zayn laughs softly, clasping his hands together in his lap. 

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” He says innocently, his smirk growing wider, “Except for that the fact that you’re in love with Tommo, but -” 

“I’m not in love with him!” Harry interrupts him, indignant, heart beating manically in his chest. 

He wasn’t in love with Louis, he just has a – small crush on him. That’s all it was. 

Zayn snorts loudly at the answer, his eyes scrunching up as he smiled at him. “You totally are, you just won’t admit it.” Zayn insists, giving him a shit-eating grin. He hated his best friend sometimes. Harry groans again, looking up at Zayn with a pout. 

“It’s just a crush,” He says softly, mostly to himself. Zayn sighs at the answer, fingertips drumming against the stairs. He gives Harry a wry smile. 

“You should ask him out,” Zayn starts, cutting Harry off before he can say anything, “I mean, Tommo’s a pretty nice guy? Great ass too, it would be great.” He shrugs, staring up at the ceiling after. Harry looks at him; awestruck, as he looks at his best friend. 

“Are you absolutely insane?” Harry asks disbelievingly, “I can’t ask him out! It’s not gonna work out, Zee.” Zayn gives him a crazed look, rolling his eyes after. 

“And why not? It’s not like he’s going to shun you or anything, Harry,” Zayn scoffs, leaning forward, elbows leaning on the top of his thighs. 

“He might,” Harry retorts lamely, fingers anxiously combing through his hair, “What if he laughs in my face for even asking?” Harry whines, closing his eyes at the thought. 

Zayn reaches into his pocket, pulling out his pack of cigarettes, “What if Mick Jagger is your dad? Both of those scenarios are pretty unlikely.” Zayn snorts, lighting the end of his cigarette. Harry smiles at that, sticking out his tongue playfully. 

“He could be! I mean have you _seen_ me?” Harry scoffs sarcastically, pointing to himself. Zayn laughs loudly at that, pushing himself onto his feet. He takes another drag from his cigarette as he walks closer to Harry. 

“C’mon, Mick. Let’s go get that sushi,” Zayn mumbles, kicking at Harry’s foot. 

>>

“You’ve been drawing the same eye for forty minutes, Harry,” Zayn comments, leaning his chin on Harry’s shoulder. Harry sets down his piece of charcoal, looking over his shoulder at Zayn. Zayn smiles devilishly at him, laughing when Harry’s charcoal soiled hand comes to brush against the side of his face. 

Zayn settles in the stool beside his easel, leg bouncing up and down casually. Harry turns his attention back to his sketch. It was a simple sketch of a boy; of thin shoulders and wide, mesmerizing eyes. His dark colored hair lay in wispy waves atop his head. It almost looked like-

“Is that Louis?” Zayn asks a second later, head tilted as he looks over Harry’s sketch. Harry puts a hand over his mouth, giving Zayn a crazed look. 

“Of course not!” Harry whispers frantically to him, eyes practically bulging out of his head. Zayn laughs wildly at that, slapping his hand away as he laughs. Harry narrows his gaze at him, nostrils flaring. 

“It’s not funny!’ 

Zayn finishes laughing, shoulders still jumping as he tries to calm himself down. He clears his throat, raising an eyebrow at him, “It’s extremely funny, actually,” he states matter-of-factly. 

Harry groans, getting up from his stool. He walks over to the other side of the classroom, washing his hands in the sink. He turns back to look at Zayn, “I was having trouble coming up with a muse to draw for Mr. Grimshaw’s class, alright? And it just sort of-” 

“Happened?” Zayn finishes, giving Harry a knowing a look. Harry shrugs his shoulders weakly, drying off his hands with a paper towel. He comes back to his work station, looking at his portrait one more time before looking away. 

“I didn’t make fun of you when you drew Niall for that one assignment,” Harry tries to tell him, mouth set in a small pout. Zayn shakes his head at that, helping Harry pack up his charcoal set. 

“That’s because Niall is my _boyfriend_ and not some random guy I have a crush on,” Zayn snorts, leaning against a table. Harry mocks him under his breath as he zips up his backpack. He slings it around his shoulder, taking his sketchbook off of the easel. He hands it to Zayn wordlessly as he moves the easel back to where it should be. 

“Speaking of Niall, where is he? Shouldn’t he be here by now?” Harry asks as he walks beside Zayn, turning off the lights to the studio as they walk out of the room. Zayn and Harry usually always stayed behind after school to work in the art studio for as long as they were allowed to. Niall would eventually meet them there after soccer practice so that he could walk with them home. 

Zayn smirks at the mention of Niall, hazel eyes a light honey in the setting spring sun. “He said he was hanging out with Liam after soccer practice today,” Zayn says, winking at him, “Louis’ coming too.” Harry nearly trips over his own feet at the mention of his name. He stops in his tracks, cheeks going pink as he looks anywhere but at Zayn. 

“Oh, that’s...that’s nice,” Harry says, smiling. Zayn laughs loudly at that, wrapping his around Harry’s broad shoulders, dragging him the rest of the way down the hall. Once they’re outside, he drags Harry in the direction of the gym and soccer field. Harry starts to panic, eyes switching between Zayn and what he assumes is his untimely death. 

“Where are we going,” Harry groans, stating it more than asking. Zayn grins at him brightly, clapping him over the shoulder. 

“Meeting up with Ni and Liam,” He says innocently. He was taking pleasure in Harry’s pain; Harry hated him. 

“You are evil,” Harry whispers to Zayn, his heart beating wildly against his chest. Zayn pays him no mind, letting go of him once he sees a shock of blond hair in the distance. Harry hears Niall before he sees him, his loud, cackling, laugh always a clear indication that he was near. He was joking around with Liam, his broad shoulders and sun tanned skin a dead giveaway of who he was. They finally notice their presence and stop their conversation. Niall smiles brightly (was that even possible?) once he sees Zayn, his clear blue eyes even lighter than usual in the sun. 

“Hey, angel,” Zayn greets softly, wrapping an arm around his thin waist. Niall fits himself automatically to his side, skin flushed as he leans up to kiss the corner of Zayn’s mouth. Niall looks nauseatingly pleased next to Zayn, it made Harry the tiniest bit jealous. 

Liam turns away from the couple, making a fake gagging noise as he holds his stomach. Harry can’t help but laugh. Niall laughs too while Zayn simply flips him off. Liam turns to look at them again, laughing hard enough that his eyes become two happy crinkles. “It’s been twenty seconds and you two are already being disgusting,” Liam huffs, trying to come off irritated but ends up only looking mildly distressed and mostly endeared. 

“Hey, Liam,” Harry says softly, giving him a little wave. Suddenly, Liam’s attention was all on him and it caught Harry off guard. Staring into Liam’s eyes is the equivalent of staring at a fire for too long; they were soft and warm and gentle and Harry felt like he had the attention of an entire room. Liam beams at him, his eyes squinting as he smiles. 

“Hey, Harry,” He replies, putting a hand on top of his shoulder. Harry felt warm all over at the touch, any tenseness he felt disappearing. 

Although it returned once he hears a familiar voice. 

“Are you guys waiting for me?” Louis shouts, jogging over to them from the equipment room. Harry doesn’t dare turn to look, his body freezing in its place. Niall laughs loudly at that, whispering something to Zayn. Harry can’t see Zayn’s face, but he knows that he’s looking at him. 

“Why do you think we’re still here, asshole?” Liam shouts back at him, laughing to himself after. Harry felt his presence before he saw him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Louis giggled once he was by his side, all easy smiles and bright blue eyes. 

Harry was so fucked. 

Louis leaned his arm on Harry’s shoulders, as if they’ve been friends for years. Harry went into panic mode. Louis gives him a sideways glance before he turns his attention to the group. 

“So, what are we doing, guys?” He asks, eyebrow raised. Harry can see his Adam's apple bob as he talks, and he licks his lips unconsciously. 

“We can go out for ice cream or something?” Liam suggests, meeting eyes with everyone in the group. Niall and Zayn mumble their agreements and Harry simply shrugs. There’s a pause and Louis nods his head, a smirk on his lips. 

“Yeah, sure. I could go for something sweet.” 

>>

It’s been fifteen minutes since they’ve sat down at their table and Harry is about ready to explode–or evaporate; whichever comes first. 

The whole walk to the ice cream parlor had Harry on edge because every time he gave Louis a sideways glance, Louis would catch him. After first Louis just shrugged it off, smiling at Harry and trying to start a conversation. But when Harry, being the awkward boy he is, simply either gives a one word response or none at all, it becomes a game to him. Every time Harry would look, Louis was already staring. He became aware of the staring halfway through town and it sent a shiver down his spine. His heart felt like it was about to flop out of his chest and he couldn’t stop _sweating_ even though it was a cool spring evening. 

Once they had gotten to the ice cream shop, the staring stopped and Harry felt like he could breathe again. Only it seized to stop again once Louis made it his personal mission to sit next to Harry. And currently, Harry was holding onto his milkshake for dear life. 

Harry tried his best to keep his distance, though, it proved nearly impossible due to the small space in the booth. Louis would look at him every now and then, especially when Harry tried to move, a small smile, that probably meant something, forming on his lips. For most of the outing, Harry just kept to himself; not really speaking unless someone had to ask him a question.  
He didn’t really _do_ groups, he wasn’t used to being around this many people at a time; especially people his own age. He always usually kept to himself, his throat constricting at the thought of being around crowds of people. He wasn’t really familiar with the act of socializing; apart from Zayn and Niall, Harry didn’t really feel the need to talk to anybody else. Niall’s cackling laugh brings him out of his inner monologue, eyes lifting up to see what had happened. 

From what he could gather, he could only assume that Niall tried to feed Zayn some of his ice cream and instead of putting it against his mouth, he managed to spear it across his cheek. Zayn’s mouth was set in a grimace but his eyes held nothing but fondness. 

“You’re gonna’ have to clean that up now, angel,” Zayn murmurs to him softly, smirking as Niall’s cheeks turn a soft pink color. Niall always blushed at the pet names Zayn gave him, his cheeks turning delicious shades of pinks and reds. Niall darts forward, tongue sliding against the side of Zayn’s cheek in one clean swipe. Zayn yelps, pushing Niall away as he stares; mortified. Everyone laughs at the look on his face, even Harry can’t help but crack a smile. Niall raises an eyebrow at him, his own smirk on his face as he licks his lips exaggeratedly. 

“There you go, all clean,” Niall announces happily, picking up his spoon and eating more of his ice cream. Zayn rolls his eyes, mumbling under his breath as he goes back to his cup of strawberry ice cream. 

Liam beams at Zayn, licking a few drops of vanilla ice cream from the corner of his mouth, “Zee, have you been working on any projects lately?” He asks; deep brown eyes giving their undivided attention to Zayn. He just shrugs, pushing away his empty container; thinking. 

“I finished my most recent one a few weeks ago, the one for my room?” He asks, and when Liam nods his head, he simply shrugs again, “I haven’t been doing any major ones in a while. I’ve mainly been working on some with Harry.” At the mention of his name, all eyes were on him. Harry coughs into his sleeve, his throat suddenly closing up on him. He clears his throat for a few seconds, giving them a wry smile. 

“Really? What’ve you been working on?” Liam asks, those enchanting eyes solely on him now. Harry clears his throat again, giving them a shy shrug of his shoulders. 

“Nothing too big, I’ve just been working on a few pieces for an installment I’m doing,” Harry says, tone soft. Louis smiles at him encouragingly, legs bouncing up and down rapidly beside his. Harry’s eyes linger down to where their legs are almost touching. He would’ve gotten distracted by that if it weren’t for Niall asking him a question. 

“Are you doing an installment for the art exhibition next month?” Harry gets bashful once he asks, fingers gripping at the edge of the table. Zayn looks at him with pride in his eyes, nodding to answer the question for him. 

“He got asked to showcase a few of his pieces for it.” Zayn says, tapping his fingertips against the table top. Liam, Niall, and Louis talk over one another in their attempt to congratulate him. Harry shrugs his shoulders, looking over towards Zayn. 

“Zayn is too,” He adds, raising an eyebrow at him. Niall immediately looks towards him, slapping him on the shoulder. 

“Ow!” Zayn shouts, holding his shoulder as he narrows his eyes at Niall. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Niall asks, sounding close to tears. Harry mouths out a silent apology to Zayn once he gives him a grimace. 

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” He says in return, gaze cool. 

“This is so cool! I get to say that I know two famous artists now,” Liam says excitingly; practically glowing. Louis snorts at the statement, leaning back in his chair. 

The conversation shifts after that, Zayn denying any claim of being a famous artist while Niall and Liam argue that he will one day. Louis mainly keeps to himself, along with Harry and it makes him very anxious. 

Because Louis was _never_ quiet. Of all the years Harry has known him, there hasn’t been a time in which Louis was reserved. 

Louis was the definition of a ray of sunlight; golden skin and light chestnut hair. He was always laughing and smiling and up to absolutely no good. Even when they were children, Louis always made it his goal to get into as much trouble as possible, and some things never changed. He was the golden boy at their school. Everyone loved him, adored him, and for good reasons. Louis was never one of those people who needed to be mean in order to be popular. He was gentle, and pleasant, and he always helped where he was needed. He was a good person and it showed in everything he did. 

Harry is taken from his thoughts when Louis rubs his elbow against his arm. Harry looks down at his arm before he meets Louis’ eyes. Louis has a slight frown on his lips and Harry is getting freaked out by it because it absolutely does _not_ belong on that mouth. 

“What?” He asks after a few seconds, his body begging him to look anywhere but at the tender blue eyes staring back at him. 

“I don’t know; I kinda just realized that we don’t really know each other that well,” Louis hums to himself, the frown still there. Harry snorts at that, shrugging his shoulders. 

“I’m not surprised, I’m really not that interesting,” Harry comments, giving him a small smile. The frown on Louis’ face deepens and Harry’s heart sinks. 

“Don’t say that,” Louis says softly, sounding almost like he was personally hurt by the comment, “I’m sure you’re plenty interesting.” He smiles, patting Harry on the thigh. Harry’s stomach feels queasy at the touch, his fingers wanting to curl around the ones on his thigh. But Louis removes his hand before he can even get another chance to think about it. “And we’re neighbors, right? It’s always good to get to know your neighbors.” 

“Zayn’s your neighbor, too,” Harry blurts out because he’s an idiot. Louis laughs at that, a small tinkling thing before he shakes his head, finishing the rest of his ice cream. When he turns back towards Harry, there’s a small dot of vanilla ice cream on the tip of his nose. Harry tries to hide the smile forming on his mouth, looking the other way as he puts a hand over his mouth. 

“What’s so funny? Are you laughing at me?” Louis asks, poking at Harry’s side. Harry bursts out giggling because he’s _very_ ticklish there. He turns to look over his shoulder, his smile so wide, he can feel the dimple forming in his cheek. 

“You have ice cream, on the tip of your nose,” Harry finally says, shyly. He points to the spot on his own nose. Louis’ eyes cross for a minute, trying to find it and that makes Harry laugh again. Louis seems pleased with the reaction, finally reaching over to get a napkin from the dispenser. He wipes his nose, a please little smirk on his mouth. 

>>

 

“He likes you, y’know?” Zayn says, leaning into Harry’s side. Harry looks up from his phone, furrowing his brows. 

“What?” 

Zayn looks at him like it was obvious, rolling his eyes before he speaks again, “Louis! He likes you.” Harry groans once he says it, putting his phone away as he packs up his backpack. He slings it over his shoulders before he gets up from the table they were sat at. He doesn’t wait for Zayn to follow, not really wanting him to follow in the first place. His laughs to himself once he hears footsteps behind him leading down the hall. 

It was late in the evening, school having been long over. He open the door to the building, not bothering to hold it open for Zayn. Zayn laughs loudly at that, speeding up so that they were walking side by side. It was dark and silent, the only noise being cars that came down the road and the occasional sigh from Zayn. It was nearly completely dark, but Harry could see that Zayn was blatantly staring at him. He finally stops once he gets to an intersection. He gives Zayn a look, arms folded over his chest. 

“Would you stop looking at me like that?” He sighs, rubbing his arm when a breeze passes by. Zayn shrugs his shoulders, dragging him across the street with him once the intersection was clear. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Zayn hums to himself, his hand dropping to his side once they’re on the next sidewalk. Harry rolls his eyes, trying to keep down the smile that was forcing itself on his lips. 

“You think you’re right,” Harry starts, snorting to himself. He looks over to Zayn and he has a small smirk on his face. He shrugs his shoulders coolly, humming under his breath. 

“Right about what?” Zayn asks casually, laughing when Harry pushes his shoulder playfully. 

“About - about Louis… _liking me_ ,” Harry scoffs softly, digging his hands into the pockets of his jeans. They walk in silence again, Harry’s house just up the road when Zayn speaks again. 

“He does like you, if not in the romantic way, at least in the friend way,” Zayn says, looking over to Harry. He walks up the steps to his house, leaning against his front door. Harry thinks about the idea for a minute; turning it over in his mind. It could be possible, but if it was true, why now? Why would Louis bother being his friend now? 

“You wanna come in?” Harry asks, turning around to put his key in the lock. Zayn shakes his head, giving Harry an apologetic smile. 

“Can’t, I’m meeting Niall for dinner in a bit,” Zayn says as he starts to walk down the street to his house. Once Harry is inside, he pokes his head out, laughing to himself. 

“Have fun with your angel, loverboy!” Harry yells, making kissing noises after he does it. Zayn flips him off, not bothering to look back as his laughter fills their quiet neighborhood. 

>>

A couple of days later, Harry is busy. 

He’s busy and he’s scrambling and he’s _trying_ not to panic, but he wasn’t doing a good job about it. His deadline for his art pieces to be submitted for the art exhibition was tomorrow and he only has about half of them done. 

“Shit,” He mumbles under his breath, groaning when he realizes there’s most likely a huge pink smudge of paint on his forehead. He wipes off his hand, rushing over to the sink to wash out his paint brushes. He hears the door open and close from the other side of the room, but he pays no mind to it, assuming it was Zayn. He had mumbled something about getting snacks from the vending machine or something, but Harry had been too focused on getting the line work of his portrait _just_ right. 

“I hope you got me something from the machine,” Harry calls over his shoulder, “I really like those brownie bites? The ones with the peanut butter in the middle?” 

“Those are good!” He hears someone say, but it definitely was not Zayn. Harry had never turned around so fast in his life, the bun on his head dislodging slightly. He’s met with mesmerizing blue eyes. Harry forgets how to speak in that moment. 

Louis doesn’t seem to mind, humming to himself as he walks around the table full of Harry’s pieces. He stops at one particular piece. Picking up the ceramic mask Harry made the other day. 

“This is beautiful,” Louis comments honestly, fingertips brushing over the fine details that Harry spent four hours doing. Harry smiles softly to himself, drying his hands on his apron as he walks over to the table. 

“Thank you,” Harry says quietly, holding back the urge to say _but you’re more beautiful_. Harry watches Louis closely, the curl of his lashes suddenly becoming the most interesting thing in the room to him; aside from Louis himself. Louis looks up at him, smiling happily as he puts the mask back down. 

“You made all of this?” Louis asks, looking down as he rubs his fingers over the vase next to the mask. There was a look of wonder in his eyes and it a made a weird feeling settle in Harry’s stomach. 

“Yeah, this is just half of what I have planned for the art exhibition next month,” Harry shrugs, walking around the table to sit back down on his stool. He picks up a paintbrush, trying very hard to concentrate on filling in the watercolor detail he had planned for this piece. It was hard though, when he realized Louis was standing right behind him. He freezes, the tip of his brush centimeters away from his canvas. He becomes hyper-aware of Louis’ presence behind him and it sets off a frenzy in his head. 

“You’re amazing,” Louis comments offhandedly, as if he didn’t say something that didn’t make Harry want to jump up and kiss him. Harry takes a deep breath, steadying his hand as he makes long strokes with his brush. The paint does run out of the lines a bit, but Harry loves it, loving the way it will probably look at the end. 

“Zayn’s better,” Harry comments after a while, dipping his brush into shade a of blue that is almost identical to the color of Louis’ eyes if he remembers correctly. Louis huffs behind him and that makes him turn around. Louis has that same look on his face, the same look he gave him at the ice cream shop when Harry had casually said _I’m not that interesting_. 

The same pout is there, along with a slightly disappointing look in his eye. It makes Harry suddenly feel bad for whatever he just did. 

“Don’t compare yourself with Zayn,” Louis comments thoughtfully, looking over Harry’s shoulder to look at the canvas. “You two are great in your own ways,” Harry snorts as he turns back around, trying to hide the fact that his cheeks are probably bright pink at this point. Louis doesn’t say anything else and neither does Harry. Louis eventually pulls up a stool next to Harry, sitting in quiet companionship next to Harry. He occasionally gives him quiet praise, eyes raking over the portrait. Harry has a warm feeling building up in his chest by the time he’s finished. He puts his brush down, rubbing at his eyes. He turns to Louis and gives him a soft smile. 

Louis looks back at him, his smile matching Harry’s, “Finished?” 

Harry nods his head, standing up from his stool. He nearly falls over as he does so, catching himself on the edge of the table. Louis laughs to himself softly, elbow leaning on the tabletop. 

“I’m finished with this piece, I have two more at home though,” Harry says through a yawn, gathering up his brushes for one final washing. Louis hums, standing up from his stool. 

“Is there anything I can do to help you clean up?” Louis asks, coming up to stand next to Harry. Harry shrugs, looking over his shoulder.

“You could put my canvas on the drying racks over there,” Harry asks casually, “If you want to.” Louis laughs at him, clapping him on the shoulder as he carefully takes the canvas and puts it on one of the drying racks next to the sink. Harry murmurs a quiet ‘thank you’ as he passes Louis, putting his brushes to his bag. He packs up his paint, shoving them in his duffle bag along with his brushes. Louis snorts, and that gets Harry’s attention. 

“What?” He asks, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. Louis shrugs, smirking to himself. 

“It’s just that, it’s like you have a whole art studio in there,” He says, pointing to his dufflebag. Harry hums in agreement, dragging the duffle bag off the table and to his side. 

“I wonder where Zayn is,” Harry thinks out loud, trying to cut off the lights to the studio. Louis does it for him, wordlessly pressing his hand into the small of Harry’s back to push him forward, closing the door behind them. 

“Oh, he’s with Niall in the gym,” Louis says, walking beside Harry, “I ran into him on my way to my car and he said he’d been with you in the art studio; figured I’d come and keep you company since I knew he wasn’t coming back anytime soon if he was with Niall.” 

He rolls his eyes at that, shaking his head; though he can’t help himself from smiling at the thought. Once they’re out of the building, Harry finally realizes how late it is. The sun was long gone out of the sky from the loos of it, leaving twinkling stars behind. He turns to Louis, frowning, 

“What time is it?” Louis takes out his phone, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Almost eight,” He says in return. Harry almost drops his bag of brushes at the answer. 

“You stayed with me for four hours?” Harry asks, brow furrowing. 

“It was technically two and a half; Zayn had left you in there for an hour before I showed up,” He shrugs. 

“Asshole,” Harry huffs under his breath. He turns to Louis again, heart beating against his chest. “Well, thanks for staying with me.” He says softly. 

“It was no problem at all,” Louis replies, “It was nice to get to see you work. You’re really talented.” He adds easily. 

Harry made a sound at the back of his throat, he needed to get out of there before he dropped dead on the ground. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Harry asks, already turning to walk towards the road. 

“Hey! Where’re you going?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow. Harry turns back around to look at him; puzzled. 

“Um...home?” 

“Let me give you a ride home,” Louis says, pulling out his keys, “It wouldn't be trouble at all.” Harry goes to say no, but Louis cuts him off, “C’mon! We live next to each other, we’re going the same way anyway.” Louis did have a point. And the more Harry stood there, the more tired he felt. He sighed after a few seconds, nodding his head. 

“Okay.” 

It was a short car ride home and Harry was thankful for it. He honestly didn’t remember to breathe until they were parked outside of Louis’ house and he took in a big gulp of air. Louis looks at him strangely, fingers tapping against the dashboard. 

“Thanks for the ride,” Harry says suddenly, breaking the silence that stretched between them. Louis licks his lips, smiling at Harry. 

“No problem,” He replies. He seems to be debating something in his mind, eyes never leaving Harry’s as another silence forms between them. “Listen, we have a soccer match tomorrow night, wanna come?” He asks, though he looks nervous and Harry can’t understand why. Harry thinks it over, trying not to grimace as he does so. Harry wasn’t particularly into sports, finding them not as interesting as everyone else seemed to. Before he could answer, Louis speaks up again, “I invited Zayn, so that means that Niall is probably coming too.” 

Harry looks over at Louis, shrugging his shoulders, “Yeah, sure,” Harry says softly, blushing after he says it. Louis smiles brilliantly once he says it and Harry makes it his unconscious goal to make sure that smile never goes away.

“Okay! Great!” Louis exclaims, nodding his head. He finally unlocks the doors, stepping out of his car and Harry does the same. Once Harry gets his bags from the back seat he makes his way across his yard until he’s in front of his door. He looks over to Louis’ front porch, waving to him before Louis enters his house. 

>>

“Did you guys fuck?” Zayn asks the next day during lunch. Harry nearly chokes on his sandwich, looking up at Zayn in shock.

“What?” Harry chokes, sputtering as he reaches for a bottle of water. He looks down at his lunch, suddenly losing his appetite all together. He leans back in his chair, giving Zayn a quizzical look, “Who are you talking about?” 

Zayn rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath that Harry can’t quite make out, “Louis! Did you guys hook up?” Harry gapes at him, giving him an incredulous look. 

“Of course not!” 

Before Zayn can reply, Niall plops down in the seat next to Zayn’s, smiling at the both of them. “What’s going on?” Harry glares at Zayn pointedly, waiting for him to answer. Zayn shrugs his shoulders, leaning back his chair and laying his arm against the back of Niall’s chair. 

“I was seeing if Harry and Lou hooked up last night, but apparently not,” Zayn replies, pouting to himself. Niall cackles loudly, practically bouncing in his seat. 

“That means you owe me money!” Niall laughs, smirking at Zayn as he takes a bite of his slice of pizza. Harry looks at the both of them incredulously. 

“You fucking bet on this?” Harry scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Niall shrugs apologetically, leaning into Zayn’s side. 

“It was an easy bet, I knew I’d win,” Niall mumbles, giggling when Zayn pinches his side. 

“He just sat with me while I finished my pieces for the art exhibition,” Harry mumbles, shrugging his shoulders, “Nothing too interesting.” Zayn groans dramatically, putting the back of his hand onto his forehead. 

“And here I am; trying to live vicariously through you,” Zayn huffs, turning his head to the side, “My efforts have been wasted.” He laughs when Niall slaps him on the thigh, rolling his eyes. He takes a bite of his pizza, smiling at Harry. 

“Except you forgot about the part where he asked you to go to the soccer game tonight,” Niall comments casually, raising an eyebrow at him.

“What's the big deal about that?” Harry asks, though he can feel his heart thumping against his chest as his mind starts to wander. Zayn and Niall both look at each other at the same time; a silent conversation forming between them. 

Zayn turns back to Harry after a pause, taking a sip from his water bottle. 

“I mean, it’s not _that_ big a deal -” He sighs dramatically, shrugging his shoulders, “But it does mean that he likes you,” 

Harry groans, leaning forward so that he could rest his head on the table, “No he doesn’t.” He protests weakly. Niall laughs at that, leaning over to pat Harry on the shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, but you no longer have a valid argument,” Niall says, clicking his tongue. Harry raises his head up at that, pouting at his two best friends. 

“Says who?” 

Niall shrugs again, giving him a crooked smile, “Evidence.” 

Harry slumps back in his chair, sulking to himself, “Why would he even like me?” He wonders out loud. 

“Because you’re kind and gentle and very caring,” Niall says in a soft tone, offering him a smile. 

“And also because you’re hot as fuck,” Zayn interjects, shrugging his shoulders. Niall laughs at that while Harry tries to keep a smile from forming on his lips. 

“I’m only going because he said you two would be there,” Harry explains, shaking his head. Niall snorts at that, leaning back in his chair. 

“Bullshit,” Niall comments, shaking his head, “I know as soon as you see Louis in his soccer uniform, you’ll forget all about us being there,” He adds, laughing with finality. Harry sighs, closing his eyes as he thinks. 

“You guys are the worst,” Harry groans. 

This was going to be a disaster.

>>

Harry was surprisingly excited to go to the game tonight, trying to tell himself that he wasn’t going to zone out as soon as the game started. 

He wouldn’t be zoning out, especially when Louis was on the field. He’s brought out of his thoughts when Niall nudges him. He raises an eyebrow at him, giving him a knowing look. 

“Scouting for Louis?” He asks, munching happily on a paper plate of nachos. Harry grimaces down at the food, wondering how anyone can stand to eat the shit they sell at the concession stands. But then again, Niall would eat anything. 

“No,” Harry huffs stubbornly, tapping his foot on the floor, “This bench is hurting my ass.” Niall snorts at that, turning his attention towards the field. It felt like a proper sports related movie to Harry; the field was illuminated by blinding white lights, the nervous energy building up around them, the buzzing of excitement throughout the stadium was almost too much to handle. It all felt very surreal, and Harry could understand why people got excited for these things. 

“When is this damn thing going to start?” Zayn wonders out loud, fingers tapping anxiously on his knee, desperate for a cigarette. Niall shrugs his shoulders, putting another chip in his mouth before speaking. 

“Probably soon, I just texted Liam and he said they were still warming up,” Niall mumbles as he chews, wiping his mouth when he was finished. Zayn looks a bit disturbed at the action, but he simply just shakes his head as a fond smile forms on his lips. Harry didn’t quite understand their relationship. Zayn was brooding, rude, and quiet, while Niall was bright smiles, friendly banter, and infectious energy. In theory, they should have never worked, but Harry supposes opposites do attract. 

The crowd around them suddenly erupts into a loud cheer. Harry nearly falls out of his seat at the action, and he looks around until his eyes focus on the parade of blue and black stripes float across the field. Niall stands up from his seat, cheering along with the crowd. 

“Kick their asses, Li!” He shouts, waving his hands in the air, “You too, Louis!” Harry almost immediately spots Louis at that. He was at the front of the parade, hair slicked back by a headband as he spoke softly with Liam. Louis and Liam were the co-captains of the their school’s soccer team. They were undefeated together, winning title after title for their school. The soccer team were the Gods of their school; everyone loved them, cherished them; practically worshipped the ground they walked on. But Harry only had his eyes on Louis. 

Harry couldn’t see Louis very well from where he was sitting, but he could see the determination in his eyes. He had a blank expression on his face and from the looks of it, he could petrify anyone with a single glance if he needed to. He rolls his shoulders, eyeing the other team across the fields. It was like watching a knight prepare for battle. He stood in the center of the field, Liam close behind him as he waited for the captain of the other team to meet him there. There was a standoff, Louis giving the other a quick once over; carefully trying to anticipate his next move. A second later, the referee blows his whistle, and before anyone knows it, Louis is halfway across the field with the ball. 

>>

The game ends before Harry even knows it, their team winning ten to two. There’s a weird feeling that settles in Harry’s gut. It’s been there since the moment he saw Louis step out onto the field if he was honest. He’s not going think about, because if he does, it will become a thing and it is definitely _not_ a thing.

Harry gets up from his seat, wrapping an arm around Niall’s shoulders as they begin to descend from the bleachers. 

“That game was fucking sick,” Niall comments, clapping Harry on the shoulder. Zayn huffs beside them, rolling his eyes. 

“You say that about every game,” Zayn grumbles, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Niall rolls his eyes in return, turning to Harry. 

“He’s always like this after a game; nicotine deprivation,” Niall tries to whisper, giggling when Zayn gives them an irritated glare. Harry snorts at the comment, leaning against the fence that separates the bleachers and the field once they’re on the ground.

“I suppose that’s what you get for having a smoke stack for a boyfriend,” Harry states cheekily. He bursts out laughing when Zayn slaps him on the back of the head. 

“Twat,” Zayn growls under his breath, walking away from them in a brooding silence. Niall sighs wistfully, leaning forward on the fence. 

“God, I love him,” Niall says airily, giving Harry a lovesick smile. 

“There you are!” Niall and Harry both turn to look where the voice came from. 

Liam comes running over to them, shirt discarded and hanging out of the waistband of his shorts. His torso, face, and hair glistened with sweat, his skin glowing in the bright field lights. Harry gulps at the image, finally realizing how attractive Liam really was. If Liam looks like this, Harry doesn’t even want to know what Louis looks like shirtless. 

Liam comes to a stop in front of them on the other side of the fence, hands resting on his hips. He gives them both a dazzling smile, his eyes squinting with the force of it. 

“I was hoping to run into you!” He laughs, pushing a hand through his sweat soaked hair, “Where’s Zayn?” 

“Smoking by the dumpsters, probably,” Harry replies, snorting to himself. Liam hums in agreement, laughing to himself softly. 

“I’m having a little victory party at my house, it would be awesome if you guys stopped by?” Liam asked, biting his lower lip. He suddenly looked like an anxious eight year old instead of the incredibly fit soccer god that he truly was. Niall reaches over to pat Liam on the shoulder, nodding before he even replies. 

“Of course we’ll be there!” Niall says, bringing Harry into his side. Harry nods excitedly along with him, though he does become a little anxious. 

Harry doesn’t necessarily do parties; they’ve just never been something that he particularly wanted to go to nor really enjoyed. Harry hears stories of the parties around the area, mostly coming from Niall since he never misses a party. 

Liam positively beams at the answer, “Great! I’ll see you guys there.” He waves at them before turning around and jogging back the way he came. 

>>

“Can we leave now?” Harry whispers to Niall, blushing as another person slides past him on the packed makeshift dancefloor. It had been approximately an hour since Harry, Niall, and Zayn arrived at the “little” celebration party at Liam’s house. It was hot and humid and everyone smelled like shitty beer and awful cologne; Harry wanted to leave. Niall brushes him off, pale arms wrapped around Zayn’s neck. Their bodies were pressed firmly together, Zayn pressing his face into the side of Niall’s neck. Niall looks up at Harry again, cheeks slightly flushed from the shots he’d taken earlier and probably because of his close proximity to Zayn. 

“We just got here, babe,” Niall laughs, giving Harry an apologetic smile, “Gives us another hour, okay? We’ll take you home then,” Niall states, kissing Zayn on the cheek. Harry rolls his eyes, stumbling through the crowd into the kitchen. It was not as crowded in the kitchen, but there was still too many people in there for his liking. Most of the people in the room were couples; their mouths attached to some part of their partner’s body. Harry rests against the wall in the corner farthest from the couples, wrapping his arms around himself protectively. 

“Tequila?” 

Harry turns in the direction of the voice, trying very hard not to turn his nose up at the smell. Perrie smiles up at him, shot glass in hand. She was one of the most beautiful girls at their school, and if Harry were more into girls, he’s sure he’d be smitten. Her enchanting blue eyes were very red at the moment, her words a little slurred. Harry gives her a small smile in return, shaking his head. 

“Don’t really drink,” He replies softly, shrugging his shoulders. Perrie hums to herself, downing the shot like it was water. She sets it on the a random countertop, coming back to stand in front of Harry. She leans in closer to him, pale, nimble, fingers stroking down the side of Harry’s arm. 

“How about a shag then? We can find a room upstairs?” She offers, giggling to herself. Harry’s brain starts to malfunction as panic fills his veins. She grabs onto his hand, raising it up to her lips. She gives his knuckles a quick peck, lowering his hand so it was almost touching her - 

“No, thank you,” Harry says quickly, slipping his hand out of hers. She eyes him up and down for a few moments before shrugging. 

“Alright then,” She slurs, walking out the door that leads to the living room. Harry exhales slowly, resting his head on the wall.

After a few moments, he decides to go outside. He walks out the sliding door that leads to the backyard. There wasn’t a soul in sight and that was how Harry liked it. He sat on one of the steps that lead down into the yard, leaning against the stair behind him as he thinks. 

“Thought I might find you out here.” 

Louis smiles at him, walking past him until he was at the bottom of the stairs. He leans his back against the railing, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. Harry sits up straighter in Louis’ presence, his hands clasping together in his lap. Harry can’t help but stare at him, he was just so gorgeous. His hair swooped into a delicate wave across his forehead, his eyes so open and light that Harry was sure he could float away with from the feeling they gave him. Harry wonders if Louis would let him use him as a figure study one day. 

“Why’s that?” Harry asks for lack of a better response. Louis shrugs, giving him a coy smile. 

“I don’t know, you just seem like the type to not like this kind of thing,” He states, looking away after he says it. He seems nervous and Harry can’t quite figure out why. 

“Well, you’re right,” Harry replies softly, clearing his throat, “I don’t really do parties,” He adds, fingers drumming against his thigh. Louis laughs softly at that, nodding his head. The conversation dies off after that and Harry gets the a fleeting feeling of panic. Louis stares at him curiously, his eyes glowing in the moonlight. 

“Is there something wrong?” Harry asks, breaking the silence between them. Louis laughs at that, shaking his head. 

“It’s nothing,” He replies, biting his lower lip after he says it. Harry snorts at the answer, tilting his head to the side. 

“It seems like something,” Harry says without thinking, “I mean, y-you don’t have to tell me if you-”

“Are you gay?” Louis blurts out, cutting him off. Harry stops talking mid-sentence, going into a stunned shock. Louis looks just as surprised, his whole body chemistry changing. He doesn’t meet Harry’s eyes and he keeps shuffling in his place. 

Harry shakes himself out of his trance, eyes switching between Louis and the ground, “Would that be a problem if I-” 

“Of course not!” Louis interrupts again, stepping closer to Harry, “Liam’s pansexual and he’s my best friend,” Louis says quickly, rubbing a hand over his eyes, “And I’m, theoretically, bisexual so-” He cuts himself off, eyes looking everywhere but at Harry, “I was just curious,” He adds weakly. 

Harry startles them both when he begins to laugh, leaning forward with the force of it. It felt like it would never end, his eyes watering and his throat becoming sore. He laughs even harder when Louis starts to laugh to, his shoulders jerking up and down with it. Harry feels so light on the inside once he’s finished, his stomach a little sore and his throat feeling scratchy and worn out. He give Louis a dopey smile as he blinks away the tears that formed in the corners of his eyes. 

“Yes,” Harry says suddenly, clearing his throat. Louis turns more towards Harry, his side leaning against the railing as he pouts. 

“Yes what?” 

“Yes, I’m gay,” Harry concludes, all of a sudden feeling quite embarrassed. He doesn’t look at Louis at first, his focus mainly on his shoes. He chances a look up at Louis after a couple of seconds, his stomach clenching at how intense his gaze was. His whole body chemistry changed again, his shoulders relaxing as his eyes bore into Harry’s. 

“Do you want me to take you home?” Louis says abruptly, looking away from Harry. When he looks back, whatever emotion he was feeling before was gone. Harry doesn’t let himself be disappointed, there was nothing to be disappointed about, right? 

“I came here with Ni and Zayn, I think they’re going to take me home,” Harry shrugs, giving Louis an apologetic smile. Louis chuckles at that, shaking his head to himself. 

“I saw Niall lead Zayn upstairs on my way out here. I doubt they’ll be coming back down anytime soon,” Louis informs him, rubbing at the back of his neck. Harry whines under his breath at that, rubbing a hand down his face. 

“I hate my friends,” Harry thinks out loud, smiling when it gets a laugh out of Louis. 

“The offer still stands?” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders, “I’m not in the mood for partying tonight anyway,” Harry gasps in mock horror at the statement, clutching the front of his shirt. 

“Have you lost your edge, Tommo?” Harry teases, giggling when Louis kicks him in the shin playfully. 

“Because of that, I’m revoking my offer; you can walk home,” Louis huffs dramatically, making his way past Harry as he climbs back up the stairs. Harry laughs loudly, grabbing onto Louis’ ankle as he tries to get by. 

“Wait! Please don’t leave me here,” Harry laughs, whining when Louis doesn’t laugh. He cracks a smile after a couple of seconds, leaning down to offer a hand to Harry. 

“C’mon, let’s motor out of here.” 

\-- 

The car ride home was filled with a comfortable silence; both boys simply enjoying the other’s company. When Louis parks in front of Harry’s house, neither of them make a move to leave the car. Louis stares out the driver’s side window before turning to look at Harry. Harry feels like he’s under a spotlight; Louis’ full attention on him overwhelming. 

“So…” Louis says softly, laughing to himself. He beams at Harry and for the first time ever, Harry finally thinks that he could be falling in love with him. The thought hits him like a punch to the face, knocking all the air out of him. His chest feels like it could burst and his palms begin to sweat where they’re resting in his lap. Louis blinks at him, a hint of a smile forming at the corners of his mouth. Harry thinks for a brief second that Louis can probably tell how absolutely gone for him he is. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Harry says before he can ever stop himself. His eyes grow wide in horror when he realizes what he just had just done. Louis is just as surprised as Harry is, his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows raised. He looks away from Harry, looking down at his lap. He starts to shake his leg, and Harry is waiting for the moment when Louis calls him a freak and tells him to get out of his car, but that moment never comes. 

Louis looks back up at him, his eyelashes fanning so beautifully against the apple’s of his cheeks that Harry feels close to tears. 

“Thank you,” Louis whispers, his eyes full of tenderness. He looks at Harry’s lips, eyes drifting to them and then back up in an instant. Harry can feel his mouth go dry, his heart beating against his chest. He feels himself lean closer, his lips parting in anticipation. Louis doesn’t seem to notice, a small chuckle escaping his lips as he unbuckles his seatbelt. He opens the car door without a single word and Harry is a little more than disappointed. He gets out of the car, his cheeks bright pink with embarrassment, why would Louis kiss him anyway? 

Harry stands awkwardly on the curb, his hands in his pocket while he waits for Louis to do something. Louis walks around the car, standing in front of Harry. He has a soft smile on his lips and his eyes are so blue, that Harry swears he can see rolling ocean waves in them. 

“I had a good time tonight,” Louis says happily, almost like he was in a daze. Harry scoffs at him, rolling his eyes playfully. 

“We really didn’t do anything,” Harry laughs, an airy feeling settling around him. Louis simply shrugs his shoulders, scrunching his nose up in the most adorable way possible. 

“I like talking to you,” Louis replies, kicking the tip of Harry’s shoe. Harry can’t help but smile, eyes looking anywhere but at Louis. 

“I like talking to you too,” Harry says softly, looking up at Louis. Louis is practically glowing and Harry honestly doesn’t know what he just got himself into. 

“Good,” Louis replies instantly, smiling brightly. He looks over to his house, his feet back pedalling towards his driveway, “I should probably get inside.” He says softly, almost like he didn’t really want to go. Harry can feel his heart breaking a little, but he simply smiles, waving at him. 

“See you at school,” He says for lack of a better goodbye. Louis winks at him in return, turning around as he walks towards his house. Harry is dazed by the action, his feet unwilling to move. 

>>  
“You guys suck,” Harry comments grumpily, biting the end off a stick of celery. Niall sets his lunch down at their usual table, plopping down into his seat. He simply just shrugs off the comment, deciding to focus more on his plate of spaghetti. Zayn raises an eyebrow at him, his eyes cool and inquisitive. 

“And why’s that?” He asks, picking at his nails after. He looks up again when Harry kicks him under the table, “Ow!” 

“You guys left me at that party to go fuck,” Harry scoffs, trying not to pout when he says it. Niall laughs, his tongue poking out as he licks away a stray noodle on his chin. 

“Technically, we didn’t leave. _You_ are the one who left us, actually.” Niall says, a sly smirk forming on his lips, “Heard you got a ride home from Tommo.” Zayn perks up at that bit of information, his own smirk forming on his mouth. 

“You’re yelling at us for fucking, but you-” 

“Nothing happened!” Harry groans, slapping his hands down on the table. Zayn just snorts while Niall laughs, leaning back his chair, “And how’d you even find out about that?” 

“We have our sources,” Zayn says in reply, biting into an apple slice. Harry looks at him incredulously, pushing his tray away from him. He had lost his appetite. 

“Liam?” 

Niall nods his head, leaning on his forearms, “Liam’s not good at keeping news to himself.” 

“I am too!” Liam interrupts, setting his tray down next to Niall. He looks between the three of them, slinging his arm around Niall’s shoulders once he sits down. “What news are we talking about? Did you tell Zayn I stepped on his oil pastels?” 

“That was you?” Zayn gasps, eyes narrowing. Liam shrugs apologetically, his bottom lip poking out. Niall laughs at the both of them, leaning back in his chair. “You owe me sixty bucks.” 

“We were talking about how you told them about me getting a ride home from Louis,” Harry chimes in, still a little annoyed. Liam smirks instantly at the mention of Louis’ name, looking at Harry over the rim of his cup as he takes a sip of his water. 

“What’s the big deal about that?” Liam asks, trying (and failing) to keep the smirk off of his face, “Unless it _is_ a big deal?” Harry starts to panic at the suggestion, eyes switching between Liam, Niall, and Zayn. 

“What’s a big deal?” Louis says, sitting in the seat next to Harry. Harry gives Liam a murderous look, mouthing at him to not say anything. Zayn clears his throat dramatically, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Well…” He starts off, laughing when Niall pinches him on the arm, “Never mind.” Louis gives them a suspicious look, but decides to not say anything. Harry smiles tightly at Louis, trying to calm down his heart rate. 

“It was nothing,” Niall chimes in, looking over at Harry, “Just messing around.” 

“Oh, okay,” Louis smiles, “But guess what my parents just told me?” 

Niall puts a finger to his chin, looking for into the distance, “You’re shit at soccer and should quit the team?” Louis throws a balled up napkin at him as everyone around them laughs. 

“You’re in an arranged marriage and you get shipped off to Nepal tomorrow?” Liam giggles, laughing even more when Louis gives him a dirty look. 

“No! Both of you can fuck off,” Louis laughs, slinging an arm around Harry’s shoulders like it’s the most natural thing in the world, “My parents said I can use their beach house for spring break this year!” Niall woops in celebration, reaching over the table to clap a hand on Louis’ shoulder. 

“I hope you’re telling us because we’re invited and not because you’re trying to rub it in our faces,” Niall says, sitting down in his seat. Louis shrugs his shoulders, a little smirk forming at the corners of this mouth. 

“Ah, it’s a little bit of both to be honest,” Louis replies cooly, looking at Harry and then at the rest of them, “You guys in?” 

“I know me and Zayn are,” Niall says, wrapping his own arm around Zayn’s thin shoulders. Zayn just nods his head. 

“I’m definitely in,” Liam says next, nodding his head enthusiastically. Louis looks over to Harry, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to get a little bit of a tan,” Harry says, smiling up at him. 

“Actually it would, I’m bringing plenty of sunscreen,” Liam interjects, giving Harry a pointed look. 

“Yeah, you’re gonna’ need to. Niall doesn’t tan, he burns,” Zayn adds. He shrugs when Niall gives him an irritated glare, “What? It’s true! You were red as a lobster by the time we came back from that camping trip.” 

“Good to know,” Louis says, laughing after, “We leave Sunday morning, guys!” 

>>

“Are we there yet?” Harry groans from the back seat. Zayn turns around, lifting his sunglasses from the bridge of his nose. 

“Does it look like we’re there yet, sweetie?” Zayn asks in a condescending voice, turning back around. He mumbles something under his breath as he places his sunglasses back down. Niall rolls his eyes, eyes meeting Harry’s in the rearview mirror. 

“We’ll be there in like ten minutes,” Niall shrugs, eyes focusing back on the road, “Louis’ car is still going straight, so that’s where we’re going.” 

“What are the chances that this is some sort of death trap,” Zayn speaks up, looking out at the open stretch of road in front of them, “What if they befriended us only to chop up our bodies and dump them into the ocean.” Niall scoffs at the statement, shaking his head. 

“Do you really think _Liam_ is capable of murder?” Niall laughs, “He nearly cried when he stepped on a worm once.” Niall adds, chuckling. Zayn shrugs, turning his head to look out the passenger side window. 

“I guess you’re right,” He says softly. 

They remain mostly silent for the rest of the journey, the sun slowly drifting to the other side of the sky. Once they finally reach their destination, the sun is sinking past the skyline. 

“Finally here,” Niall huffs, rubbing at his eyes. He pulls into the driveway, parking in the garage next to Louis’. Harry didn’t get a really good look of the house, but from what he saw, it was huge and definitely expensive. 

Harry gets out of the car first, stretching once he’s on flat ground. He yawns into his fist, looking over his shoulder, “Remind me to sit in the front on our way back. The back was killer on my legs.” Niall laughs at that leaning against the car as Zayn comes to stand in front of them. 

“This garage is bigger than my entire house,” Zayn scoffs under his breath, taking a look around, “Who needs all of this space?” 

“My parents, apparently,” Louis answers, leaning his arm on Zayn’s shoulder. He gives each of them a tired smile, fingers tapping against the fabric of Zayn’s shirt, “You guys feel alright?” 

“I just want to go to bed,” Zayn groans, yawning dramatically. 

“Same here, that car ride killed me,” Liam adds on. Louis pats Liam on the shoulder, giving him a sympathetic smile. 

“Yeah, I forgot how long the trip up here is,” Louis says, shrugging his shoulders, “But there’s still one problem; I am one hundred percent sure there isn’t any food in the kitchen.” Niall is the first one to groan out of all of them, leaning against the car. 

“You are a shit host, you know that?” Niall scoffs, placing the back of his hand to his forehead. Louis rolls his eyes, looking between the four boys. 

“Who wants to go to the grocery story with me?” Louis asks, though his eyes drift over to Harry. Harry looks at Niall and is met with a small, knowing smirk. 

“Not me, I just want to go to bed,” Liam says, already making his way up the stairs that leads to the main part of the house. 

“You can have any bedroom, just not the master,” Louis calls over his shoulder. 

“I’ll go wherever the wind takes me,” Liam calls back in return. 

“How many bedrooms does this place have?” Zayn asks, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. 

“Four,” Louis replies, pulling out the cigarette that was lodged between Zayn’s lips, “And there will be no smoking in any of them.” Zayn looks like a broken man after he says it; shoulders hunching. 

“Niall’s right, you are a shit host,” Zayn comments bitterly, turning around to walk up the stairs. Niall sighs, rolling his eyes as he leans away from the car. 

“I should probably go and make sure he doesn’t burn down your house in retaliation,” Niall comments, slowly moving his way between Harry and Louis before rushing up the stairs. 

Louis turns to Harry with a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, “I guess we’re going grocery shopping then.” 

\-- 

Once they get to the store, the trip mostly involves Louis putting more bags of chips into their cart than actual food. 

“Louis,” Harry giggles, hands clasped on the handle of the shopping cart, “We don’t need four bags of tortilla chips.” Louis narrows his eyes at him, hugging the bag of corn chips to his chest. 

“But _I_ need them, Harold,” Louis scoffs, throwing them into the cart defiantly. Harry sighs, shaking his head as he continues to push the cart down the aisle. 

“Can we at least get some real food?” Harry says, pushing the cart to the fresh produce section, “I don’t think I can live off of Hot Pockets for a week.” 

“You can if you believe in yourself,” Louis says, winking at Harry over his shoulder. Harry gets distracted by it and nearly runs the cart into a display case. 

Louis seems to not notice, sighing dramatically as he turns around, “Fine, we can get _real food_ , but you’re cooking it.” 

“I don’t mind cooking,” Harry says, shrugging, “I actually kinda’ like it.” For a moment, there’s a soft look that forms in Louis’ eyes and Harry tries to figure out why. Louis seems to snap out of it a second later, grabbing onto Harry’s hand. He squeezes it lightly before letting go. Harry can feel his skin tingling where Louis’ hand touched his.  
. 

>>

It’s nearly eleven at night by the time they get back to the house. They quietly make their way into the kitchen, trying and failing to keep from being too noisy.

“You are the worst at staying quiet,” Harry scolds half-heartedly, reaching up to put a few bags of chips into the cabinet above the sink, “You’d be a shit spy.” Louis laughs loudly at that, slamming the fridge door shut for punctuation. 

Once they’re done putting things away, they make their through the living room, finding Niall and Zayn asleep on the couch in front of the TV. 

“Look at them,” Louis teases, pouting his lips, “perfect little angels.” Zayn grumbles something under his breath, his arm clutching tighter around Niall’s shoulders. 

“Fuck off,” Zayn mumbles quietly, not bothering to open his eyes. Harry puts a hand to his mouth to keep from laughing. 

“Even in his sleep, he’s an asshole,” Louis comments, turning to walk up the main stairway. Harry follows quickly behind him.

“At least they weren’t fucking,” Harry giggles, gasping when he trips on a stair. Louis grabs onto his shoulder and steadies him before he could fall.

“If they fucked on my couch I would’ve honestly kicked them out,” Louis jokes, his hand flexing around Harry’s shoulder. 

Once they reach the top of the stairs, Harry’s eyes drift down to Louis’ mouth. They look so soft and inviting and Harry just wants to lean down and – 

“Kiss me,” Louis says softly, disrupting Harry’s train of thought. Harry looks at Louis, brows furrowed. Louis smirks a little, a spark of something in eyes and it makes every hair on his body stand up. 

“What?” Harry breathes, eyes looking between Louis’ eyes and mouth. Louis responds by leaning forward, softly pressing his lips on Harry’s. Harry is too stunned to do anything, his arms uselessly dangling by his sides. The kiss is over before he can even reciprocate, Louis pulls back after a few seconds. He looks embarrassed and flustered and Harry just really wants to kiss him again and for the rest of his life. 

“You’re welcome to take any bedroom,” Louis speaks up, his eyes focusing on the floor, “Good night, Harry,” He adds before Harry could even think about replying. Louis turns quickly on his heels and walks towards the door at the end of hallway to his left. Once the door is shut, Harry finally feels like he could breathe again. 

“What the hell just happened?” He whispers quietly to himself. 

>>

The next morning, Harry is woken up by harsh sunlight pouring in from the windows and to the sound of a guitar and yelling. Harry sits up abruptly, his hair falling over his eyes as he flails. He settles once his heart stops beating so fast. He squints his eyes, yawning into his fist as he tries to figure what’s going on. He turns to the door of his bedroom, all the noise seeming to come from the hallway outside. 

“Niall! For the love of God, put the guitar away!” He can hear Zayn yell, followed by more yelling that Harry is pretty sure is in another language. He can hear Niall laughing, strumming his guitar louder. 

“I want everybody up! We have a big day today!” Niall all but shouts, strumming his guitar again. 

“It hasn’t even been a full day and I already have to kick you out of my house?” Louis yells next, adding the noise in the hallway. Harry feels his heart wrench at sound of Louis’ voice and at the realization that he got to _kiss_ him last night. He flops back onto the bed, throwing an arm over his face as he tries to fall back asleep. 

“Harry, I know you’re up! Get the fuck out here!” Niall yells, banging on the door. Harry whines loudly at that, reaching above his head and throwing a pillow blindly at the door. 

“Go away,” Harry mumbles loudly, turning onto his side. He sighs loudly when he hears his door creak open. He doesn’t hear anything, but before he can turn around to find out why, he feels someone jump on top of him. Harry can’t help but laugh, his lungs hurting as he tries to fight them off. 

“It’s time to get up, Harold!” Louis yells in his ear, moving until his thighs were on either side of Harry’s waist. Harry freezes at the sound of his voice, his breathing stopping almost entirely. Harry looks up at Louis and immediately regrets it. 

Louis looked so nice and warm, his hair mussed and sleep worn. His lips looked so soft and inviting that Harry couldn’t help but stare at them. Louis seems to read his mind, leaning down. His lips were nearly touching Harry’s, a breath away from contact before he decides to leave a soft kiss to Harry’s cheek. 

“Time to get up, Niall’s orders,” Louis says softly, laughing when Harry pushes him off of him. Harry gives him a tender smile, nudging Louis’ leg with his foot. 

“Your hair looks like a bird’s nest,” Harry mumbles, pulling off his blankets as he rolls out of bed. Louis pouts at him, lunging over to mess up Harry’s hair. 

“Look who’s talking, Curly,” Louis says, winking over his shoulder as he skips out of the room. 

 

>>

The day is a mixture of laughter, sunscreen, and dizzying amounts of Louis. Harry couldn’t help but smile whenever Louis was around, his energy so bright and infectious that it made Harry actually want to participate. So he followed the group around the small beach community, happily going from shop to shop, walking up and down the boardwalk, and spending hours out in the sun with ocean lapping at his feet. 

Harry sighs, plopping down on one of the beach towels they had put down earlier. He ties his hair back into a bun, crossing his legs in front of him as he watches his four friends playing in the sun. Louis had Liam in a headlock, his laughing ripping through the air as he trashing around to keep him in place. Niall was busy walking with Zayn along the ocean, hand in hand. Zayn looks between Niall and the ocean, biting his lip anxiously. Niall gives him a reassuring smile every time Zayn tenses, nearly freezing up completely when the ocean waves come in too close for his liking. 

Harry reaches over to the bag he brought, pulling out his sketchbook and a pencil. He doesn’t really know what he wants to draw, at first he draws a few cartoon versions of Niall and Zayn, but then his mind starts to wander and he suddenly ends up with three different sketches of Louis and his perfect smile. Harry really does have a problem. 

When the sun starts to set, the boys eventually get back to the house. Niall declares that he’ll cook dinner that night, dragging Zayn along with him as he makes his way into the kitchen. Liam says he’s going for a swim in the pool, which leaves Harry and Louis by themselves for the time being. Harry settles on the couch in the living room, turning on the radio as he doodles in his sketchbook aimlessly. He feels someone settle on the couch beside, but he doesn’t even have to turn his head to know it’s Louis. 

“What are you drawing?” Louis asks, scooting closer to him. His arm is pressed against Harry’s as he looks on. Harry clears his throat nervously, trying to come off as relaxed when he shrugs his shoulders in reply. 

“I don’t know yet,” Harry answers, clearing his throat again when he hears his voice shake. Louis hums in reply, resting his chin on Harry’s shoulder. He doesn’t say anything, he simply just watches Harry work. Harry tries to focus but he can’t, not with Louis’ breath tickling at the side of his neck. It sends a chill down Harry’s spine, his breath hitching when Louis moves. 

“Can I see your sketchbook?” Louis asks suddenly, making Harry jump a little. Harry goes into panic mode, eyes switching between his nearly blank page and Louis. Louis sense his apprehensiveness, shrugging his shoulders softly, “You don’t have to give it to me.” Harry feels like all the air has been squeezed out of his lungs when he says it. The only thing Harry could manage at this point was to just nod his head, putting the sketchbook into Louis’ lap. Louis sighs happily, looking down as he flips through pages and pages of nonsense. 

Harry looks down cautiously, fingers itching to take away the sketchbook before he finds anything particularly embarrassing. Louis looks up at him occasionally, smiling at him when he finds a particular sketch he likes. 

“These are so cool!” Louis comments under his breath, fingers tracing over a sketch Harry did not too long ago. Harry can’t help blush, his foot tapping on the carpet anxiously. Louis continues to look through the sketchbook, until he stops. He looks at a particular sketch for longer than a second and Harry’s heart nearly falls out of his chest when he realizes why. 

“Uh…” Harry says, trying to find an adequate explanation for the sketch. Louis looks up at him and then down at the sketch, laughing to himself softly. 

“Are these me?” Louis asks, though he already knows the answer since Harry wrote his name in cursive, bold letters in the center of the page. It was mostly sketches of Louis’s face, and profile. There were a few other doodles of him around the edges but Harry was too embarrassed to really dwell on them. 

Harry places his face into his hands, groaning pitifully into them. He pulls his hands away, his cheeks a deep red color, “Yes?” He answers weakly. Louis doesn’t say anything at all, his face void of any emotion. Harry tries to figure out what to do next, how to fix this friendship that he didn’t even realize he was making with Louis. “Look I -” 

“Come with me upstairs,” Louis interrupts, already getting up from the couch. He stands in front of Harry, rolling his eyes when Harry doesn’t make a move to stand up. Louis grabs his wrist wordlessly, dragging him off the couch and towards the stairs. 

“Louis -” 

“Shut up,” Louis laughs, winking over his shoulder. Harry just sulks in silence, trying to figure out exactly what the hell is going on. They pass Harry’s bedroom and instead walk all the way to the end of the hallway where the master bedroom is. Louis opens the door wordlessly, pushing Harry inside before him. He closes the door behind them and locks it. Harry has the fleeting feeling that he may be about to die. 

“Listen, I -” 

“Do you know how frustrating you are?” Louis says, laughing to himself. Harry stops breathing in that moment, mouth shutting abruptly, “You really have no idea, do you?” Harry is at a lost for words, not sure how to really answer the question. “You are so attractive and you’re fantastic at art, you’re such a kind person and you’re so sweet and I am completely and utterly attracted to you.” Louis adds, crossing his arms in front of chest. Harry can’t believe what he’s hearing, his brain trying to work out a way to even comprehend all of this information. 

“You are?” Harry nearly whispers, clearing his throat after he says it, “You like me back?” Louis scoffs at the question, rolling his eyes. 

“Of course I do,” Louis says softly, stepping closer towards Harry. He steps even closer when Harry stays in his place, wrapping his hand around the back of his neck. He pulls Harry down to his level, leaning forward, “I have for years.” 

The words trigger something inside Harry and he lunges forwards, pressing his lips against Louis’. He sighs into the kiss, his hands coming to rest on Louis’ hips. Louis pulls Harry along with him as he walks backwards towards the bed. Louis pulls away, looking at Harry’s lips before settling down on the bed. He grabs Harry’s wrist, pulling until Harry was settled in Louis’ lap. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Harry whispers, tracing the outline of Louis’ cheekbone with his finger. Louis beams at the compliment, hands sneaking under Harry’s shirt to press firmly into the skin of his hips. 

“So are you,” Louis comments, raising up Harry’s shirt. He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss to Harry’s hipbone. Harry shudders at the contact, pressing on Louis’ shoulder until he lays back onto the bed. He leans forward, hands pressing into the mattress on either side of Louis’ head. Harry doesn’t hesitate to lean down and kiss Louis, the fear of not being sure of his feelings disappeared the first time Louis had kissed him. Louis opens his mouth, his tongue pressing against the seam of Harry’s mouth. He sighs when Harry let’s him in, exploring his mouth. Harry’s breath hitches when he feels Louis’ fingers snake into his hair, pulling at the strands to urge him on. Louis wraps his legs around Harry’s waist, his hips rising up to press against Harry’s. Harry can vaguely feel the outline of Louis’ dick. He could feel it getting harder the longer their hips were pressed together. Harry groans in Louis’ mouth, grinding his hips forward, his own cock thickening in his pants. 

“Fuck,” Harry moans under his breath, pressing sloppy kisses to the side of Louis’ neck. Louis continues to pull on his hair, his hips setting a slow motion as he ruts against him. Harry breathes heavily against the side of Louis’ neck, moaning almost pitifully when Louis tugs on his hair particularly hard. 

“I love those noises,” Louis breathes, his nails digging into Harry’s side. Things turn desperate when Louis groans loudly, his breathing heavy as he rushes to get off. Harry immediately kisses Louis on the mouth, rubbing against Louis harder to try and get him off. He bites onto Louis’ lower lip, pulling on it when he feels the familiar tug in his lower abdomen. 

“I’m close,” Harry groans, kissing Louis sloppily against the mouth. Louis bucks his hips up at that, his hand reaching down to cup Harry’s bum. Harry closes his eyes, grinding his hips down a few more times before he orgasms, stilling as he comes in his jeans. He sighs heavily, trying hard to keep himself up. He looks into Louis’ eyes, noticing how glazed and unfocused they were. He presses the palm of one of his hands against the front of Louis’ jeans, gasping when he realizes that Louis already came. 

“When did you -” 

“Came just watching you,” Louis breathes, the hand that was in his hair pressing onto the side of Harry’s face, “God, you’re so fucking hot,”Harry laughs at that, giving Louis a chaste kiss before he rolls over onto his side. He places an arm around Louis’ waist, pulling him until he was settled against his chest. They remain silent for the first few moments, both trying to form coherent thoughts after their orgasms. 

“That was nice,” Harry says, smiling to himself when Louis laughs softly. Louis turns over so his body was facing his. Louis yawned into his fist, closing his eyes and he smiles. Harry combs his fingers through Louis’ hair, glad to finally realize that he finally can. He could finally touch Louis how he wanted, he could hold him if he wanted to. He could _be_ with Louis; words couldn’t even describe how happy Harry was about that. 

“It was,” Louis croaked sleepily, opening his eyes softly, “But next time, I want to suck your cock.” Louis adds, pinching Harry’s hip. Harry swallows at the idea of that. The thought of Louis’ perfect lips around his cock was dizzying. 

“Louis! I know Harry’s in there with you!” Niall yells from outside. He bangs on the door for emphasis. Harry groans out loud, putting a hand over his eyes. 

“Go away,” Louis laughs, cuddling into Harry’s side after he says it, “I’m busy sucking his dick!” Harry slaps him on the shoulder, kissing him hard to keep from laughing. There’s a collective uproar out in the hallway, Niall being the loudest. 

“Fuck, we just wanted to tell you dinner was ready,” Zayn calls out. 

“But I guess you’ve already had your dinner,” Niall says, laughing loudly after he says it. 

“We’ll be out soon,” Harry calls, looking down at Louis and then at his lips. 

“Take your time, we’ll be down stairs,” Zayn says, mumbling something to Niall. They both eventually walk away from the door, leaving the two of them alone again. At least for the time being. 

“How long do you think we have?” Louis asks, his hand already creeping under Harry’s shirt. Harry laughs, his fingers pressing into Louis’ hip. 

“We have all the time in the world,” Harry smiles, pulling Louis in for a deep kiss. Later on, when they're wrapped up in each other, Harry realizes that they really do have all the time in the world. 

He couldn't wait to spend it all with Louis.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! xx


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